Remember to Breathe
by pinefresh
Summary: Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione - the boys are shipped off to war, but Ginny and Hermione find their own ways of comfort...please read =)
1. Chapter One

(a/n- I may be adding onto this - I don't really know. Let me know if I should. This was done late at night without spell check so pardon the errors..)  
  
Ginny's feet landed softly and silently on the carpet next to her bed, guiding her knowingly to the window across the room. If it weren't for the moonlight streaming in, the room might have been pitch black. Ginny sat down on the cool sill and opened the window.  
  
For the third night since Harry had left, Ginny sat at her window and stared into her back yard, expecting him to be waiting there for her like he used to. It had become a habit; waking up every night at 2:00 to talk with Harry from her window. Sometimes it would just be a quick hello - enough to keep them from being so obviously in love the next day, enough to keep them both fixed until morning. But in the past few nights, Ginny had been disappointed as she sat on her window, because Harry had left. Gone. This war...she knew nothing about it, nothing other than that her boyfriend, her greatest love, was taking part in it.  
  
Ginny knew, deep in the pit of her stomach - he would be fine. Actually, knowing Harry, he would be more than fine. He would be the hero of that entire war, of the entire battle. And, Ginny knew, when Harry returned, he would act like nothing had happened. And this, she thought, was most impressive.  
  
Ron had gone, too. Hermione was a wreck. Her letters to Ginny had been brief and cut up, with out punctuation, and the letters were smeared from, Ginny guessed, Hermione's tears. Ginny knew what it feltl ike. She had done her fair share of crying, but resolved to stop when she realized that the feel of tears coming down her cheeks didn't make one feel better, after a while. But the thought of her own brother out, fighting beside some of the most powerful wizards, was unnerving. Ginny assured herself - Ron would be fine. She had a way of sensing things like this. Ron would be just fine.  
  
Ginny slipped off the window sill and pulled her nightgown closer to her. It was enough window sitting for one night. She was reminded of what Harry had told her before he'd gone.  
  
"Don't miss me," he'd said firmly, and kissed her forehead. "I'll be doing enough missing for the both of us."  
  
Ginny nodded. She highly doubted that she wouldn't miss him.  
  
"And don't worry," he said. "It's wasted."  
  
Ginny murmured in agreement. She remembered her mother telling her that once - Worry is a wasted emotion. It was true, really - worrying wouldn't do anything.  
  
"I have to go now," Harry said in a low voice, and Ginny could see his adam's apple bobbing, and felt his tears run onto her face when he kissed her. "I love you," he whispered close to her mouth.  
  
"I love you, too," Ginny said, squeezing his hand. Harry gave her one last glance through his bright eyes, and then he was gone. That was all Ginny had to hold on to - his red cheeks, thin figure, and messy black hair, walking out of the doorframe of her room.  
  
Actually, there was one more thing. Ginny opened her nightstand drawer and felt around, finally pulling out a tee shirt. It was old, thin, and soft - it was Harry's, and he had left it in the Weasley's laundry room. Ginny held it out in front of her. The words "Not everyone can be a Gryffindor Seeker!" were across the back, and she remembered how it had looked on Harry, hanging loosely across his shoulder blades.   
  
Ginny closed her eyes and brought the shirt to her face, inhaling what she remembered of Harry - Soap, grass, and a hint of aftershave lotion. She laid the shirt neatly over her pillow, and placed her head down on the worn material. This was what was left, and it was just enough. 


	2. Chapter Two

(A/N - This part's from Hermione's point of view. A bit of R/H for you all. Mm..R/H...yum.  
  
Oh, right, and in case you didn't notice, I AM continuing this story...=])   
  
Three weeks had past since she had last seen Ron Weasley. Three lonely, heart wrenching, nervous weeks. Hermione didn't expect to see him anytime soon again, at least not until the holidays, which were still three long months away.  
  
Hermione stood up and looked around her Ron-less apartment. It was much cooler than it should have been for October...the fine hair on her arms was standing up, and her legs were prickled with bumps from the cold. She lit a fire in the corner of the living room part of the apartment, which immediately warmed her up.  
  
Hermione sat there in front of the fire for a while, curled up reading on her comfortable sofa. She still wondered why Ron had ever bugged her about reading so much - it was times like this when she needed a book more than ever, to bring her into a completely different world. But right now, Hermione would have given half her savings to see Ron in front of her, even if it were bugging her endlessly about her fascination with Hogwarts; A History.  
  
Before she knew it, Hermione was fast asleep on the sofa, her open book laid across her chest. She hadn't expected to be woken up only a few moments later by a "Psssst," close by her.  
  
The first thing Hermione thought was that she was being robbed, and she stood up in a flash, whipping out her wand and pointing it at random objects around the room. She heard someone snort in laughter, but she wasn't sure it was coming from. Hermione proceeded to walk around the room, poking various objects, until-  
  
"Oy, Hermione!" A familiar voice came from behind her. No, it couldn't be...but...right there in the fire was Ron's face.  
  
It was all of Hermione's strength to not scream out loud. In fact, she did let out a yelp, before running up to the fire and putting her face next to it.  
  
"Ron," she breathed. She shut her eyes, then opened them. He was still there. Ron was with her.  
  
"Took you long enough," he said with a lopsided grin. It wasn't real, Hermione knew it.  
  
"How are things...there," said Hermione, just now realizing bruises on his face. "And what happened to your face?"  
  
Ron's face tightened. "It's nothing," He said flatly. "I'm fine."  
  
"You aren't...tell me what's wrong."  
  
"I'm in a war, I guess that's what's wrong. And I miss everyone, and you. I miss you."  
  
Ron's blue eyes looked dull and sunken in, and they reminded Hermione of Sirius Black's eyes upon his return from Azkaban.  
  
"I miss you more. More than you know," Hermione's face was very close to the flames now. She could feel them licking her face, but they felt cool, and she wondered if she were able to touch him through them. They seemed awfully thin, and Ron seemed awfully close not to touch.  
  
But Hermione didn't have to wonder anymore when Ron's hand came out of the fire, and she grasped it as soon as she saw it. It wasn't real. It was solid, but she could almost see through it, but she held it and linked her fingers with it all the same. Ron brought her hand through the fire and kissed the top of it.  
  
"I have to go now," He said, and swallowed.  
  
Hermione couldn't help it. She closed her eyes very tightly and forced her head through the flames - she could hardly breath deep, but it didn't matter. Her mouth found Ron's and they kissed fiercely, and it was the single most bizarre feeling either of them had ever experienced. His mouth felt frozen on her's, but it was thrilling, with her face in the fire and Ron's hand in her hair.  
  
Ron pulled away breathlessly. "They're calling me. I have to go,"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Come again," she said. "Soon."  
  
"I will," He said. And then, "I love you."  
  
And then he was gone. Hermione wiped her tears. They didn't speak of love much - it had always been there, floating with them when they were together. They didn't need to tell each other, because they knew. They were Ron and Hermione, and that had always been a big enough explanation. 


End file.
